Blanca del Diablo
by darlin-deveroux
Summary: A fluffy one-shot about Thanksgiving in the Lopez-Fabray house that includes canned cranberries, picky abuelas, shower sex, and Chinese food. What could possibly go wrong?


Happy Thanksgiving! Here's some Quinntana fluff to help you celebrate your turkey day!

(As for my other story, Between the Lines, I can't decide if I want to do an overhaul of it or publish something else I've written, so for now it's halted. However, I do have some other things in the works [some fluffy, some smutty] that I hope can make you equally as happy and fulfilled!)

Read, review if you'd like, and thanks for popping in!

* * *

"Babe, I got the cranberries you wanted."

"Yes!"

Santana snorted as she closed the front door behind her and set the small paper grocery bag down on the side table, Quinn's footsteps bounding down the hall as Santana unbuttoned her coat.

"And lucky too, it was one of the last cans they had-"

"Can?" Quinn stopped in the door-frame of the living room almost as quickly as she had appeared, her eyes widening as Santana searched her face for a clue. "Can?"

"Yeah babe, can," Santana repeated as she picked the grocery bag up and shook it, Quinn pressing her hands against her face as she released a low groan. "What, I don't understand-"

"I cannot serve canned cranberries at Thanksgiving dinner!" Quinn whined as she walked towards Santana and took the bag, opening it with hesitation and looking down into the darkness of the bag to be met with the disappointing sight of the bright can of cranberries shining up at her. "San."

"What are you talking about? What other kind of cranberries are there?" Santana asked in confusion as she tossed her coat on the coach, rolling the sleeves of her maroon sweater dress up as she crossed her arms.

"I don't know, the fresh kind? The kind you get in the produce section in bundles?" Quinn shot back in aggravation, Santana only able to shrug her shoulders as Quinn growled lowly and turned to head back into the kitchen. "San…"

"How was I supposed to know you meant real cranberries? Who the hell has actually ever eaten real cranberries?" Santana defended as she followed Quinn, the blonde not acknowledging anything she had to say as she tossed the grocery bag down and began rifling through the cabinets. "And besides, doesn't this mean you have one less thing to cook? You should be thanking me, not scolding me."

"No, it means it's just one more thing your abuela is going to judge me on," Quinn grumbled as she found the small sauce pan she needed, placing it on the burner as she fiddled with the stove knobs. "As if there wasn't enough."

"What the hell does my abuela have to do with cranberries?" Santana's asked in pure confusion as she watched Quinn begin tearing through the kitchen drawers. "She doesn't even eat the damn things, she won't know."

"Oh but she will, when she sees them in their…cylinder can-shape, she'll know," Quinn explained as she grabbed a measuring cup. "Just one more thing the blonde white girl can't do right." Quinn's hands worked quickly as she filled the measuring cup up with various ingredients and emptied them into her sauce pan, Santana shifting her eyes between her girlfriend's vigorous movements and the lone can of cranberries that sat on the counter still in its bag.

"Honey you lost me somewhere back there, between the cranberries and my abuela-"

"Santana you know how your grandmother feels about me," Quinn snapped, her eyes finally meeting Santana's through the blonde wisps of hair that had fallen into her eyes. "She hates me."

"Quinn."

"No, no-no-no-no, don't Quinn me, you know I'm right," Quinn interjected as she reached for a can of chicken broth and her can opener. "Ever since she first met me she's hated me."

"That's not true Quinn, she doesn't-"

"She calls me blanca del diablo, San," Quinn interrupted as she tilted her head, Santana having no defense against that one as her lips hung open. "Face it, it's true."

"I still don't understand what any of this has to do with the cranberries."

"It's not about the damn cranberries, Santana, it's about all of it, this entire day," Quinn explained quickly as she tossed the can opener aside. "It's about making sure that this dinner and this evening are perfect, that everything is perfect so that maybe, just maybe, your abuela will finally accept me as a part of you and think I'm good enough." Santana fell silent as she watched Quinn wipe her hands on her apron, the brunette unsure of what to say as her girlfriend shook her head.

"Baby, listen to me-"

"Santana don't do this, ok, I don't have time for a pep talk-"

"Quinn," Santana said firmly as she rose her voice, Quinn's head snapping to face the brunette's as she blinked in surprise. "Listen to me." Santana moved around the counter and let her hands wander to the bottom of Quinn's apron, pulling her closer and closer until Quinn's nose was against her own.

"You know that I'm crazy about you-"

"I know-"

"Shut the hell up and let me finish," Santana snapped playfully, Quinn fighting off a small smile as her lips pouted. "You know that I'm crazy about you, and that no matter what I'm always going to be crazy about you. Everything we've been through, from Lima to New York, babies and boyfriends and breakups, and you think one tiny, frail 70 year old woman is going to swoop in and take all that from us?"

"No," Quinn answered softly as her eyes avoided Santana's, her delicate fingers pushing back her bangs as she sighed. "I just know that your family is really important to you."

"Yeah, they are," Santana agreed. "But you're a part of that family too. Hell, you've been there for me when my own blood family wasn't." Quinn's lips began to turn upwards as Santana placed her hands on the blonde's cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over the soft skin and leaning in close.

"I know it's frustrating, and I wish there was something I could do to make her see right now all the reasons why I love you. But I am positive that in time, real cranberries or not, she will, and she'll grow to love you just as much as I do."

"Doubt that," Quinn murmured as Santana chuckled, her lips pressing against Quinn's forehead as she planted a quick peck there.

"All she's ever wanted is for me to be happy. You make me happy. It's as simple as that." Quinn nodded as she released an exhausted sigh, turning her head towards the scattered vegetables on the counter and feeling her gut sink when she realized how much work she had left to do.

"However, if it will make you happy, I will run back out in this crazy weather and traffic and get you real cranberries." Quinn contemplated the choice as she bit the tip of her finger, glancing over the still cooking food and then quickly shaking her head.

"No, no, it's fine. These will be just fine." Santana patted the counter before turning to head back out the kitchen, Quinn's tugging on her hand stopping her short.

"San."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," she said sweetly as she pulled her back in for a kiss. "I needed that."

"Yeah, well, I need you, as cheesy as that sounds," Santana smiled. "It's cute though hun, you thinking that the cranberries would make a difference."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked as she released Santana's hand.

"Just that-I don't know, you thought cranberries would suddenly and magically make her like you. Were they gonna be magic cranberries?"

"Santana!" Quinn scoffed, her small hands gathering into fists as her mouth hung open. "I can't believe you!"

"Admit it, you were gonna poison those things from the start," Santana teased as Quinn began chasing her around the kitchen island, the blonde throwing various vegetables and fruits as Santana egged her on.

"Blanca del diablo! Blanca del diablo!"

"I'm gonna kill you!"

* * *

"Well it's-it's certainly a new approach to Thanksgiving."

The Lopez-Fabray clan all stared down at the dining room table, their eyes scanning over the dishes of Chinese food served in Quinn's best china.

"Yeah, well, we decided to uh mix things up this year," Santana tried to explain, her mother's eyes meeting hers as she nodded in confusion. "Go for something…non-traditional." While that may have been the story Santana presented to her family the truth was much more risqué, Santana and Quinn's mini food fight ending with Santana's tongue between Quinn's thighs in the shower and the oven timer being completely ignored over both girl's moans.

"Its crap is what it is," Santana's grandmother spoke up as she motioned to the cartons of fried rice and lo-mein noodles, her disapproval evident in every crease of her face. "This isn't Thanksgiving, it's a Friday night at a frat house."

"Think traditional frat cuisine is pizza," Quinn spoke up as she ran her hand through her wet locks, completely ignoring Santana's grandmother's nasty look as she shrugged. "Chinese is more "Thursday night in with the girls."

"Whatever it is, it's crap."

"Mom-"

"What? It is, its crap."

"Abuela-"

"Well, you know what, it's our crap," Quinn stated firmly as she grabbed the plate nearest to her and began shoveling shrimp fried rice onto it, Santana's eyes widening as she watched her girlfriend put on her widest smile. "And our crap is what's for dinner. Now you can eat it or not, the choice is yours, but it's what we're gonna be having for Thanksgiving and it's what you can have with or without us. Now what's it gonna be?" Silence filled the dining room as everyone watched and waited, Santana's grandmother shifting her eyes from Quinn's face to the plate in her hand.

Without a word she finally snatched the plate from Quinn and took her seat at the table, Quinn offering her a simple nod and smile as she turned to the rest of the family. "Who's next?" Quinn finished making everyone a plate and finally the entire family was seated at the table, grace being said and everyone diving in. As the clatter of forks and chatter filled the air, Santana leaned over to Quinn and whispered in her ear.

"Gotta tell ya babe, assertive Quinn? Hot," she mumbled softly, Quinn smiling proudly as she chewed on her broccoli. "I mean I was half proud, half seriously aroused."

"Just wait, you haven't seen anything yet," Quinn fired back before taking a sip of wine, Santana leaning back in her seat as her eyes widened.

"Oh I see, you tell one little old lady off and suddenly you're tough shit, ok," Santana teased, Quinn glaring at her as she ran her tongue across her teeth. "See how tough you are when I get you back in that shower-"

"Santana, honey?" Santana's mom interrupted, both girls turning to see the woman rising with her glass in the air. "I wanted to make a toast to the both of you, for having us come up to visit and serving us what has been a wonderfully delicious meal. I can't wait to see what you do next year."

"Italian! Oh that would be good, wouldn't it?" Santana's father suggested, the clan continuing to shout out suggestions as the meal went on. Santana saw her grandmother's un-amused face out of the corner of her eye but chose to instead focus on the conversation of potential Thai food, not another word being spoken about the meal as they ate.

* * *

"Alright sweetie, I'll see you in the morning. Don't forget your good shoes, those stores are gonna be crazy cluttered."

"I won't mom, I'll see you then," Santana laughed as she pecked her mother goodbye, turning back towards the living room to see her abuela getting her coat on.

"Well, I guess we'll do it again next year," Santana said nicely as she helped the older women slide her arms in, her grandmother only nodding as she put her scarf around her neck. "I hope you enjoyed dinner. I know it's not what you expected-"

"It certainly was not," Santana's grandmother agreed shortly, adjusting the collar of her large coat as she sighed. "But it was certainly…eye opening."

"Oh yeah?" Santana asked in amusement, just waiting for her abuela to unleash about Quinn. "How so?" Santana watched as her grandmother looked over and eyed Quinn, her eyebrows raising and lips pursing as she sighed. It wasn't an annoyed sigh, but more thoughtful and slow, her grandmother finally turning back to meet Santana's eyes as she shook her head.

"With that attitude, blanca just might make it in this family."


End file.
